


Safe

by queenhomeslice



Series: Hopeless [7]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anxiety, Arguing, Chubby Reader, Curvy Reader, F/M, Sneaking Out, fat reader, noctis cares about his friends, plus size reader, the reader gets triggered
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22381300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: Home's got bad vibes. Prompto's there to help.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Reader
Series: Hopeless [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607842
Comments: 6
Kudos: 46





	Safe

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way.

Prompto’s phone pings while he’s sitting at the kitchen table, doing homework. Precalculus is a bitch, but he’s determined. He’s full and happy, because he’d had dinner at your house a couple of hours earlier. It's late, still a school night, and he’s all showered and in sweatpants and a t-shirt. He yawns, takes another swig of his soft drink, and looks at his phone. 

You’re rarely ever scared in your own home. But after you’d helped clean up after dinner, you’d retreated to your room to start on homework, and that’s when the fighting had started. Nervous but intrigued, you’d crept to the top of the stairs with your literature book and take-home study guide to fill in, and listened to your parents yelling. You’d heard a loud crash, and louder screaming, and you’d hauled ass back into your room, closing the door quietly and sinking to the floor in tears. You pulled out your phone in shaky hands to text Prompto. 

_Hey, it’s me. I know it’s late and I know you’re studying_ _precal_ _but...my parents are fighting. Like big time. From what I overheard, my dad lost his job and they’re fighting about money. I think my mom threw something. It’s pretty loud in here and I’m scared._

The reply comes back almost immediately. _Holy shit. Do you think they’d get mad if you left the house?_

_This late on a school night? Probably. And they’d be pretty suspicious about me going over there._

_What can I do?_

_I can’t stay here right now. I can’t focus._

_Pack a bag, just in case...and your school stuff. I’ll jump your fence and help you out of your window._

_Prom do you really think I can get down?_

_Sure man, just do the_ _ol_ _tying sheets together trick. Besides your window is above your covered back_ _porch_ _right? Just land on that roof and I’ll help you down from there._

_Okay I’ll try._ You slip your phone into the pocket of your lounge pants and put on a sports bra, throwing your uniform and clean undergarments into the duffel that you keep your gym clothes in. You throw in your phone charger, and sweep the rest of your books and notebooks into your backpack. You get spare sheets from your closet and knot them—one to your bedpost, the others to the end of the first one, until you have a makeshift rope that almost reaches the ground. 

You see the sheets wiggle, and then Prompto’s head appears in your window, face twisted in concern. 

“They are screaming pretty loud,” he mutters. “Weird. Everything was fine at dinner.” 

“They’re going to kill me for this.” 

“Maybe they won’t even notice. They both leave for work before we go to school, right? Just lock your door. Hand me your bags.” 

You cross to the door quickly, turning the latch, then make up your bed with pillows and plushies to look like you’re under the covers. You hand Prompto your duffel and backpack through the open window and he silently drops to the ground with them, sprinting back across your backyard to toss them over the fence onto his property. He runs back and shimmies up the dangling sheets with ease. It’s a bad time to admire his arm strength, but you can’t help it. He’s stronger than he looks. 

You sigh and steel your nerves, and hesitantly back out of your window, holding onto the sheets as tightly as you can. You squeeze your eyes shut and focus on lowering yourself, hand over slow hand, until your feet reach the steel covering of your back porch. You exhale and look at Prompto, who’s holding onto the dangling sheets and beaming. 

“And you say you can’t climb rope in gym.” 

“Coming down is way different than climbing up,” you whine as you sit on the edge of the roof. “And the rope is way rougher.” 

“You’re halfway there, babe, I know you can do it.” 

You pause, but the raised voices of your parents spur you on. You scoot forward and wrap yourself around the thin sheet, arms burning with sustaining your own weight as you lower yourself down, down...until a pair of strong arms wraps around you and pulls you the rest of the way to the grass. 

“You did so good babe,” Prompto whispers in your ear as he kisses your cheek. “C’mon, I’ll help you over the fence.” 

Somehow, you’ve made it into the quiet sanctuary of Prompto’s house, and it’s almost ten at night. Both of you are now huddled up on his couch, various notebooks and textbooks littered around you. He’s got the instrumental soundtrack of one of your favorite video games playing softly through his phone speakers as the two of you study. Just as Prompto’s finishing his math, you sigh. 

“I wish Noct was here too,” you mutter as you scribble the last of your answers on your literature homework and slip it back into your binder. 

“Yeah? Bet he’s asleep already, but I can call him?” Prompto shifts forward and places his textbook on the coffee table. 

“Yeah,” you breathe, blinking back quiet tears. “Can you try?” 

“Sure babe,” Prompto agrees, grabbing one of your hands and squeezing it. He goes to his contacts and presses on Noct’s number. You snuggle close to Prompto, putting your head on his shoulder so you can hear. 

“Yeah?” comes the husky voice on the other end. 

“Hey buddy,” says Prompto quietly. “You up?” 

“Obviously,” Noctis quips. “Playing Assassin’s Creed. What are you still doing awake?” 

“Just got done with precal. Uh, so, there’s a thing.” 

“A thing?” 

“Yeah. So... ______________’s parents are fighting. Like, hardcore fighting, throwing shit.” A pause. 

“Wait, really? Why?” 

“I dunno, she said that her dad lost her job. They’re fighting about money and shit. Anyway. She totally tied sheets together and climbed down out of her bedroom window and snuck over here.” Prompto yawns. 

“Holy shit are you serious? That’s badass,” Noct laughs. “Is she gonna sneak back in or stay over?” 

“Yeah, she packed bags and stuff. Probs gonna spend the night. _____________ was wondering if you’d wanna...come over too. Big comfort slumber party.” Prompto bites his lip as he listens to Noct speak. 

“I mean I finished my homework hours ago. But Iggy would kill me if I left home this late on a school night.” 

“Really?” Prompto whines. “Not even to help calm down one of your best friends?” 

“Well, when you put it like that...I’ll text him and call you back. See ya.” 

Needless to say that less than thirty minutes later, you, Prom, and Noct are in his parents’ bed. You’re in the middle of the two boys. Noct, ever the cuddler, is clinging to your back, half asleep already. Prompto is snuggled against your front, a big fluffy pillow wedged between you. You’d kind of cried once Noct had showed up, and the whole crazy evening just kind of spilled out of you. 

“I’m gonna have to get a job,” you whisper into the night. 

“Bruh,” says Noctis, drooling. “You flipping burgers for minimum wage isn’t gonna help pay your parents’ mortgage.” 

“Don’t worry about it, Chocobabe. It’ll all be okay,” whispers Prompto, pressing a kiss to your forehead.” 

The next day, Ignis picks all of you up for school from Prompto’s house. He’s not angry, but not exactly happy about the whole situation, either. You apologize to Ignis a million times, but he’s not angry at you, and rather pleased that all of you went to bed at a reasonable hour (that all of you slept in the same bed is a detail you all forget to include in the story); and impressed that all your homework is done. Noctis is texting during the whole car ride, silent and sleepy; so you watch Prompto play King’s Knight the whole ride to school. 

Two weeks letter, three letters come in the mail—both of your parents’ cars have been paid for, as well as the rest of their mortgage payments. The third is a personal royal invitation from King Regis himself—miraculously, a nondescript administrative assistant position has opened up at the Citadel, and would Mr. ___________ be interested in applying? You know that it has to be Noctis, but you don’t mention it, no matter how much it embarrasses you—and he just goes on like nothing is ever different. 


End file.
